


Siren

by Shell_LA



Category: The Voice RPF
Genre: M/M, Shevine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-05 09:27:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3114842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shell_LA/pseuds/Shell_LA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Songwriters are funny, fickle creatures. They are secretive, sensitive and sometimes stupid. Very stupid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Adam is the shallowest, cockiest singer in Hollywood- everyone thinks so. He’s a ridiculous pop star who likes fast cars and four hundred dollar designer tee shirts and supermodels. 

The thing is, no one knows that he’s actually one of the most prolific songwriters in the industry. He has written the lyrics to hundreds of number one hits- oftentimes for artists who have a much more soulful, cultivated tone than he does. He’d mourned his voice when he was younger- how its high thready tone was great for dance hits, but unable to bring depth to the songs that moved his soul. He churned out songs for his own albums, was able to create number one hits easily, but he put his blood, sweat and tears into the other songs that he would never be able to sing. 

His creative content contract with the label had a clause in it that had been a deal breaker for him when he’d signed. It stipulated that once he was paid for his songs and gotten his fraction of the royalties from them, the artist who ended up singing them and incorporating them into their own album would not be allowed to know who’d written the work. 

He wasn’t sure why he’d done it, but he’d known in his bones that it’d been the right move. This business was cutthroat, and right now Adam was on top. He didn’t want his image shaken up by the fact that he had another side to him. Even if everyone loved to hate him and his cocky rock star act, they still ended up buying his music or dancing to it in the car or in the club. He didn’t want anything messing with that image. 

Another part of his contract that had made the deal so enticing to the label was that Adam had freely given up his right to any creative control once a song was sold. It made for some fun surprises- he loved when he was in the car or out and about and he’d hear his own lyrics being sung back to him by someone he’d never heard of, or in a way much different then how he himself had imagined the song. Though they were all catchy and sounded great, he had yet to hear one rendered exactly as he’d hoped. 

The points of most pride for him were when one of his songs ended up making the career of an up and comer. He loved that more than anything, even when he’d meet them and they’d be wary of him because of his playboy reputation. Danielle Bradberry had been one such instance, where Adam’s heavy angst-ridden lyrics about a lost love had coupled with her sweet voice perfectly. Adam remembers writing out the words in his dark cold house with shaking hands, his heart broken from an unfaithful partner- it had been a gut wrenching one to write. She’d been thrown to the number one spot on iTunes and was now the darling of the young pop country demographic. 

He’d met her briefly on the red carpet of the Grammys. She’d been sweet enough, and had gotten a little starry eyed when he sported his dark smile for the cameras behind her. He’d had to fight to contain his laughter when her tense-faced publicist steered her away as quickly as he was able. 

His amusement turned to slight curiosity when he saw where the professional was leading her. He saw Danielle’s blonde head in the crowd, and how she went up to a man and hugged him. Adam was able to see him easily since he stood above almost everyone else on the red carpet. Adam was marveling at the guy’s height when his brain nagged at him. Why did he look so familiar? The singer stood there for a moment watching the pair, trying to jog his memory, when the man looked up and over at him. Adam’s heart beat a little faster as blue eyes focused right on him, and the name dropped into his mind. Blake Shelton. 

Of course! This was another country singer, and an extremely popular one if Adam remembered correctly. They were signed to the same label, and Adam now understood why he’d known his face. His platinum records were on the same wall as Adam’s at the labels recording studio. Adam must’ve walked by them a hundred times. On autopilot he nodded his head at Blake in greeting, his usual smirk plastered on his face. Blake’s expression of cool politeness didn’t shift as he observed Adam from across the crowd. 

The man looked back down at Danielle and continued to speak to her. Usually when Adam was given the brush off in this way he didn’t think twice about it. It was rare enough, what with being an A-list heartthrob and all. But Blake’s snub left him feeling like a fool. He turned and walked down the rope-line for his next interview, trying not to think about it.

And so it went. Adam was comfortable in this system; he’d perfected the Hollywood formula and was making big bucks doing it. Sure, it left him pretty much alone except for his childhood friends and family, but Adam was happy that way. He was able to provide for them, and they knew the real him, and that was all he wanted. Until four months later. 

Adam had been sitting on his patio, sunning himself in nothing but a pair of swim trunks and shades. He had one of his hundreds of notebooks with him, and he was curled over it on the lounge chair. He was scratching out and scribbling down words when inspiration shot through him like a lightning bolt. His mind was buzzing as the song he’d been laboring over took form in his head, finally. He wrote it down as fast as he was able- these moments were rare, and nothing made Adam feel more alive than when it all came together perfectly. Once it was all on the page he sat up, raising his sunglasses to rest atop his head. He read the song, mouthing the words unconsciously. He read it again. Then once more.   
He scrambled into a standing position and darted inside, startling his dogs. A quick shower later, he readied himself and then locked up the house. He jumped onto his bike and headed for the studio. The paper with the song was crumpled in his pocket, and he smoothed it out onto the counter when he was finally in a soundproof room. He needed to hear this one. 

Something was special about it. He spent the next several hours recording, searching out the melody, and then playing the soft eerie guitar chords that would accompany the tune in the best way. Once he was finished, he downloaded the track to a USB stick and pocketed it. This would be his only copy…the song done his own way. He deleted all of his work from the label’s software, leaving no traces. There weren’t many songs of Adam’s that turned out this way- it typically took too much out of him to create something this heartfelt and sad. 

Adam glanced at his watch, whistling at the time. He was exhausted, and no wonder. Like many times before today, he’d been too wrapped up in his process to realize it was now late into the night. He’d have to meet with his agent tomorrow and give him a copy of the song lyrics to sell. He knew it was going to be a good one. 

The year following, Adam has almost forgotten about the song. Another ‘Adam Levine’ album release has come and gone, a slew of press coverage bolstering his fan base, and a tour was now in the works. Until the schedule was finalized, he was spending some much-needed time with his family in Los Angeles. This city was his favorite place in the world, and he loved treating his mom and siblings to a good time more than anything. It’s on the way to a Lakers game with his little brother that it happens. 

“Oh! I love this song!” His little bro is bobbing his head, swaying to the tune as he turns it up. The singer’s eyebrows rise in incredulity- it’s a country track. Adam has to double check the station- yep, top forty. Why was a country song topping the charts? Had the world gone mad? Then shock shoots through him, because wait a second…these are his words. This is the song! THE song!

“What the fuck?” He mumbles, forgetting that he has his kid brother in the car and really shouldn’t be swearing. He listens hungrily as he drives, trying to get a handle on what it sounds like now. It’s so different than how he’d recorded it, but…it is kind of amazing. He becomes silent like his sibling, taking it all in. It really is beautiful this way, and the deep twang of the vocals brings so much depth and meaning to Adam’s words. He feels like he did the day he wrote it- raw and vulnerable and young again. 

The track ends too soon for Adam, and commercials ruin the vibe.   
Adam turns it down slightly, turning to his brother as they drive down the 405. “Who was that?” He tries to ask casually. His little brother smiles up at him, happy that Adam hadn’t mocked him for liking a country song. “It’s Blake Shelton, I think. Siren’s the name of the song.”

The irony is enough to make him laugh ruefully. Of course. Their encounter (if you could call it that) at the Grammys last year comes to his memory easily, and he rolls his eyes. Of course it would be this artist who’d gotten his mitts on the most important song that Adam’s written in years. He decides to get to know this Blake Shelton a little better as he parks the car at the valet stand. It shouldn’t be too hard…they both have contracts with the same company. He leaves the rest for another day and resolves to enjoy this outing with his brother. They get out of the car and step into the flashing lights of the paparazzi. 

Their second meeting doesn’t go much better than the first. Adam is mingling at a label executive’s birthday bash. He usually didn’t come to these things, but this particular party was rooftop with an open bar. It was hard to turn down such an exquisite sunset view, especially when it was accompanied by free top shelf tequila. He’s ordering another round for himself and a few women who’ve congregated around him when someone bumps into him.

“Sorry, buddy,” A deep drawl hits Adam the chest. He knows that voice. He’d listened to it sing his own lyrics back to him on his iPod a thousand times. “Didn’t see ya there.”

Adam shifts and looks up into the blue eyes he’d known he’d be staring into, trying to be nonchalant when in reality his heart has started hammering in his chest. It was him. “It’s cool. Blake Shelton, right?”

Blake’s slight smile cools a bit as he recognizes Adam, but he remains cordial and nods. “Yeah.”

The country singer looks about ready to turn away, and Adam scrambles to think of something to say. “What’re you drinking?”

Blake glances down at his cocktail. “Uhh, vodka and some cranberry-lemon something? Can’t remember.” 

Adam is surprised at the choice of beverage. “Would’ve thought you were a beer n’ whiskey type of guy.”

This earns Adam the first ever smile from Blake he’d ever received. It’s a great one, with dimples and crinkly eyes and light laughter. Adam feels tingly…god, he needs to chill the fuck out. 

“Well, can’t keep my figure if I’m downin’ all those carbs. Apparently I’ve got to keep a certain look to stay in business in this town.” Blake’s tone is casual, going for humor, but Adam is perceptive. 

He can sense the small trace of sourness in Blake’s words and his annoyance with having to play Hollywood, even in this small way. Adam knows all about the resentment of having to ‘stay pretty’. He’d started working out extensively in his early twenties, determined to keep his fans interested even though the music should be able to stand on its own- sure it was cynical, but it had worked hadn’t it? 

Adam nods. “Yeah. That’s how it is here for sure. But it isn’t really so bad.”

Blake eyes him, and Adam feels a little heat creeping up his neck. Why did this guy make him feel so nervous? Like he was a kid again, and that everything that left his mouth was stupid. The country singer’s next words let Adam know the feeling was not all in his head. “You would think that, wouldn’t you?” Blake’s voice is not friendly, and he turns away once more. “Have a nice night.”

He’s gone in the crowd of people before Adam can get out a “you too”. He’s left with his drink and with a crowd of girls, but not with his pride. He goes home shortly after. 

Leaving the party sober allows him to wake up early the following day, and he decides to treat his dogs to an outing. He takes them out to the beach and lets them run wild and get messy while he walks up and down the sand bar. He felt like shit. Why did Blake hate him so much? The guy obviously had heard about Adam, had gotten wind of all the rumors that swirled around him on the daily. But usually fellow musicians didn’t give a shit, or at least pretended not to. Blake must really hate him, and Adam had no idea why. Or why he cared so much! Since when did he give a crap what anyone thought? Sure, this big idiot had bought his song, had turned it into a beautiful, chart topping piece of art, but that had happened countless times before. Why did he want Blake to like him so much?

He felt about ready to scream in frustration, herding his dogs back into his convertible and leaving before it became late enough in the morning for many other people to arrive at the beach. Adam’s self-assurance was shaken, and for the next few weeks he suffers through an explosion of anger filled creativity. He sells quite a few tracks to the label, but keeps some for his next album. He sighs ruefully when he hands over the file to his agent- the airwaves are going to be filled with not-so-happy songs this year. 

His agent puts a stop to his stewing when he tells him about a job that’s been offered to him. Usually, endorsements and sponsorships aren’t brought to him unless there is a serious payday to be had, so he at least agrees to listen. Turns out NBC is making yet another singing competition show and they want Adam to be a coach. Adam rolls his eyes at the prospect, busting into a tirade. 

He knew he was viewed as not much more than a pretty face, but even he was smart enough to know that celebrity judges usually were on their downward spiral out of the business. It wasn’t big-headedness to say Adam was at the top of his game. It was fact. He was raking in more from song sales than practically anyone else in the industry, so why did NBC think he’d ever agree to something like this?

His agent knows him well, and chooses this moment to tell him who else has signed on. Adam takes a week, hanging around his house to think things over. This could go terribly wrong…but names like Christina Aguilera and Cee Lo Green were nothing to scoff at. After getting on YouTube and watching the blind auditions from European versions of the show, he has to admit it is addicting to watch. Yeah, the chairs were fucking stupid. But it looked like a lot of fun. He agrees to a meeting, telling himself that if it doesn’t vibe he’s walking away (no matter how phenomenal the paycheck). 

He’s supposed to meet Christina and Cee Lo later in the day, but this morning’s meeting is with the development team and network executives. On his way, he gets a text from his agent, saying that a potential fourth coach is going to be there as well. Like him, this artist had been hanging back and hedging their bets. Traffic is hell, and he’s cursing the bad impression everyone will be getting of him. He resigns himself to it. At least it’ll be in line with everything people seem to think about him anyway. 

He parks on the studio lot and dashes up the stairs. He’s directed to a conference room, and his heart stutters in his chest. Blake Shelton is sitting at a long, wooden table looking utterly bored. Adam’s heart sinks. He just couldn’t catch a break. He heaves a great sigh and pushes into the room. Blake looks up at him, and his shocked expression turns into one of disappointment. Adam couldn’t remember the last time something stung so much. 

He plops into a chair, apologizing for his lack of punctuality, and keeps his head down as he tries to listen to the network’s pitch. He hazards a few darting glances at Blake throughout the hour long meeting, trying to gage if the man will be dropping out the second this woman stops talking. At one point Blake turns to what looks to be his agent and says something quietly into his ear. He is desperately curious, especially when the man looks at Adam for a second before looking back down at the table. He speaks quietly back to Blake, then they both give the executive their full attention once more. 

As things come to a close, Adam’s thoughts have come full circle and he is feeling spiteful. He’s ready to sign on, and if that stops the country singer from joining the show then he can go fuck himself. He announces his intentions to join The Voice and the network’s team looks ecstatic. Adam almost falls out of his chair in surprise when Blake speaks. “I’m in too. This is lookin’ like a serious, no-nonsense show that’s all about the music.” 

He glances at Adam for a moment before addressing the woman who’d given the presentation. “I’m happy that some people in this town are deciding to treat music with the respect it deserves. I’ll do my best to keep true to that as well.”

It may not be clear to the others in the room, but the jab is very apparent to Adam. He’s staring at Blake, indignant, when Carson Daly enters the room. He introduces himself to Blake, and greets Adam warmly (they’d met countless times in the early 2000’s when Adam was just starting out). He whisks them off to the lobby where Christina and Cee Lo have just arrived. After some quick introductions he assures them that they can run through the paperwork next week, and sends them off in a chauffeured car to get to know one another with a corporate credit card. Adam wonders if he’s in over his head. 

Adam is a native; so they defer to his expertise in picking a place. He directs them to a spacious upscale restaurant where they’ll be left to themselves. Once they’re settled in a backroom booth with cocktails on the way, Christina breaks the ice. “Blake, I just have to say, that song of yours that’s everywhere? What’s it called? Siren? It really is amazing. I think I cried the first four times I really listened to it.”

Adam can’t remember the diva being so nice any of the times he’d met her in the past, and figures that if they’re to be colleagues then he’ll be seeing a different side of her than he did when they were both fighting their way to the top. Blake chuckles and thanks her, all charming in his Southern ways, Adam thinks spitefully. He’s surprised when Blake fesses up. “Thank you, though I can’t take all the credit with that one. The song itself was actually given to me by my label. I just lent my vocals and did what I could.”

Christina nodded, and Cee Lo chimed in. “It’s all good, I don’t think any established artist can say that all their tracks are originals.”

If only you knew, Adam thinks to himself as he thumbs the side of his glass. Cee Lo goes on. “Some singers in the game today don’t even write any of their songs.”

Adam is almost ready to throw a punch when Blake’s eyes skitter over to him at these words. Christina hides a smirk behind her Cosmo. Adam tries to rise above it. “Well, I’m really looking forward to this. Did they give you guys the tapes of the European versions? It was actually really fun to watch, and I hate TV.”

Conversation comes easily after that, and a few rounds of drinks later they’re talking shop, happily commiserating over the price of fame and swapping horror stories from touring. Blake turns out to be just as charming as Adam suspected, and the cowboy worms his way into Christina and Cee Lo’s good graces by the end of the night. Even though Adam knows Blake’s opinion of him, he can’t deny their group dynamic is great, and he still has a great time even though Blake never addresses him directly. 

Not a single one of them is sober by the time Christina calls for her driver, and the other three follow suit after that, texting on their mobiles. Cee Lo’s driver is the first to arrive, followed by Christina’s. Adam is left in the booth with Blake, and the conversation becomes stilted, and then nonexistent. 

Adam’s good judgment has left the building and the next sigh emitted from Blake has him breaking his silence. “What is your problem dude? Like, what did I ever do to you to make you hate me so much?”

Blake looks up at him surprised. “I don’t hate you.” He says awkwardly.

“Well you sure as shit don’t like me. You’ve been rude to me since the day we met.”

Blake looks uncomfortable, as if he never expected Adam to address this directly. In all honesty, Adam probably wouldn’t have if he’d not been drinking for several hours now. 

“Well?” Adam says expectantly. 

Blake frowns. “I don’t hate you. I’m disappointed in you. You’re part of the problem with the music industry, Adam.”

Adam can’t believe his ears. Blake continues, oblivious. “I mean, you obviously have talent, and you’re selling out with cheap, dime a dozen tunes. There’s enough trash on the radio, and you could do really amazing things with your voice. It’s just sad to see is all.”

Blake’s discomfort about the subject is obviously fading, and he goes on. He’s apparently given the topic of Adam quite a bit of thought. “Just take me, for instance. I had to fight tooth and nail to make it in this business because all my stuff wasn’t comprised of cheesy pop fluff, and it was made so much harder by the fact that music isn’t taken seriously anymore. Musicians like you use your talent to just get rich, get women…you oughta treat your craft with more respect than that.” 

Adam’s blood was boiling. The irony of it all felt like a chain being wrapped around his neck. He stared across the table at Blake, at this man who thought he knew everything. 

“You think you know all about me, don’t you?” He asks, voice trembling. “You think because you’ve heard this rumor and that rumor, heard a couple of my songs, that you know all about how I operate. About how Adam Levine is a shallow, idiotic prick that loves being a pop star. Well you don’t know shit Blake. And it makes YOU shallow to think that you’ve figured me out when we’ve never even had a real fucking conversation.”

Blake’s eyes are wide, but Adam doesn’t care. He’s furious. He’s done. He gets out of the booth and stalks outside, not giving a shit that he’s walked into a swarm of paparazzi. He throws his arm in front of his face, trying to block the blinding flashes of light. He has the presence of mind to at least call his driver and direct him to a spot four blocks away. He tries to walk off his rage, and paces until his car arrives. ‘What did you expect?’ A small voice in his head creeps up into his thoughts. ‘This is what you wanted, right? A shit ton of money and a mask to show to the world.’ He tries to ignore the lump in his throat all the way home, gazing at the cityscape until it gives way to rolling hillside. 

Adam calls his yoga instructor in the morning, begging him to cancel his day’s appointments and come to his house. He agrees to pay the (frankly astronomical) fees and is guided through an extended practice and meditation session out by the pool for a large chunk of the day. It helps. His mind is calmed down and his body so tired out from all the work that his muscles are shaking and he knows he’ll be able to sleep like a baby tonight. Now that the anger has faded, he realizes what a colossally stupid move it was to bring up that topic with Blake. 

Now that they were for sure working together he should’ve just kept his damn mouth shut and muddled through. He could scarcely imagine the level of awkwardness their next meeting would bring about, and dreaded the first day of work. It doesn’t help that that week all of his activities seem to be shadowed by that fucking song. Everywhere he goes, Blake’s rendition of Siren is on and Adam starts to resent it, shutting it off when he’s able to. It feels cruel, the way a song he’d been so proud of creating was now made famous and helping the career of someone who despised Adam.

When he’s called in to finally sign the contracts, he makes sure to go during off hours, just in case Blake is coming in during the same week. Unfortunately, this backfires. As he steps into the legal department and sees Blake waiting at the front desk, he realizes that of course the jerk would think of the same tactic to avoid Adam. He holds his head high. He doesn’t even need to acknowledge him, at least not until filming starts and he’s being paid to do so. 

He’s mildly surprised when Blake speaks to him. His tone is careful and extremely polite when he says, “Er…the guy said to wait here, they’re printing off our copies.” Adam schools his feature, only nodding once before leaning against the wall and pulling out his phone. He flips through Instagram before shifting over to Twitter. He knows it’s idiotic, but he posts something anyway.

‘Bad luck + Bad timing = Day Ruined’

He’s watching the retweets roll in when Blake breaks the silence. “Listen, Adam…” The younger mans raises his eyes to watch Blake take a hesitant step closer so he won’t have to speak so loudly. “I’m real sorry about the other night. That was just so uncalled for, and I was a complete asshole. I’m really embarrassed, and I shoulda never said any of that shit to you.”

Adam is unsure of what to say. It must be clear on his face because Blake keeps going, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I realized after you left that you were right. I mean, I was judgin’ you from shit I’d heard when I know perfectly well that nearly everything in this town is just talk. I should’ve known better. Plus you’d been nothing but nice to me. Are…are we going to be okay? Doing this show together?”

Adam wonders if he’s been put up to this or if the remorse is genuine. Maybe Blake was only saying this for the sake of the job. It’s his instinct to be his normal spiteful self and say fuck you to Blake’s apology, but it probably took a lot of guts to admit he was wrong. He observes Blake’s expression, how stressed out he looks. 

Maybe he really does care what Adam thinks? He feels a small hint of relief. It’s possible there is more to this man than he’d seen at first. Adam smiles tentatively, “Yeah, we’re okay. Thanks, Blake.”

The country singer lets out a big sigh, laughing a little. “Great. Thanks Adam, really. I hope we’ll be able to start off on a better foot after this.”  
“Me too.”

They both shut up when the attendant returns from down the hallway, and they’re guided back into the offices to sign their lives away.   
Adam is so, so happy because the blinds couldn’t have gone better. All four of them had settled in, and the fact that not a single one of them knew what they were doing eased the nervous tension going around set. 

A few non-stellar singers had them anxious, but soon enough there was incredible talent to be fought over. The time passes quickly for Adam, who has a ton of fun showing off his quick-witted comebacks and entertaining the crowd. He and Blake sort of silently agree to pretend that their fight had never happened, and the fresh start actually goes quite well. Adam starts to really enjoy Blake’s company now that he’s as warm and friendly with him as he is with Cee Lo and Christina. 

He was so used to being thought of as the male version of a bimbo that the change in his reputation is startling. The other coaches get close with him, telling him how funny he is, and how nice and sincere he acts with everyone (he doesn’t take the tone of surprise personally). After the auditions are done and the teams are finalized, Adam is relieved when told they have a short break before the madness actually starts.  
…

Two weeks with no work leaves Adam restless like always. He’s wrapped up in his house, spending hours in his basement writing and only coming up when he remembers he needs to eat something or let out the dogs. So he doesn’t lapse completely into his own brain he makes himself check his phone at least once a day, and surprise grips him when Blake’s voice filter’s through the speaker in a voicemail. 

“Adam! Ya disappeared, man! Let’s grab a drink sometime, give me a call.”

The songwriter hesitates, but ends up dialing the phone. 

“Hey, man.” Adam fidgets with his shirt. “Yeah, I’d love to come over.”


	2. Chapter 2

When he gets to Blake's house he finds that he's nervous. Knocking on the door seems strange- all of the people Adam usually called on were used to him just walking in. That’s the way it was in LA. After all it was usually his mom's house or someone from back in the Brentwood days. Visiting someone new was... new. 

He has little time to ruminate on this fact because Blake is quick to open the door, swinging it back with a wide smile. "There you are!" 

Blake ushers him in, clapping him on the shoulder so hard his knees almost buckle underneath him. "Just in time. Game's just started."

Blake follows him through the entry hall and so he's not able to see Adam's expression of surprise when a living room full of people greets them. Adam recognizes a few faces but most are unknown to him. Blake steers him over to the counter. 

"Hey, Carson." Adam says, doing his best to not show how thrown off he is. The host is making drinks, red solo cups scattered over the counter. 

"Adam!" He smiles. "Wasn't sure you were gonna make it, Blake says you've been AWOL. Margarita?"

Adam nods and takes the offered beverage, happy to have something to do with his hands.

"Where'd your kids get to?" Blake asks, pouring himself a refill. Carson glances out the large wall of windows. "They're out by the pool. If they fall in, Blake, you can bet I'll be suing your ass."

Blake let out one of his larger than life laughs, the kind that Adam felt it in his gut every time he heard one. Blake wandered over to the crowd by the television and Adam leaned against the counter, already tired out. 

He'd misunderstood. He'd thought he was coming over to chill with Blake. Just Blake. Adam rarely hung out with such a large crowd of people he didn't know. He didn't like how it felt. He probably wouldn't have come had he known. It was hard for him in these situations...he usually relied on his whole cocky rock star thing to get through them, something which wasn’t an option if he wanted to keep Blake convinced that he was a good guy after all. He was stuck. Times like these... he never knew how to be enough of himself to fake it. 

Adam tightened his grip on his drink as he observed Blake, whose gaze was fixed on the game. Had he not told Adam on purpose? WHY did he feel upset about this? It's not like he'd been overly enthused over spending alone time with his fellow coach. He was doing this to get out of the house, and maybe patch things up further between the two of them. 

Things were fine with Blake, but something had been stirring in Adam as of late. He’d often found himself wanting to be closer to the country singer, yearning to know him more. Maybe it was because he was still listening to Siren on repeat every time he was locked up in his house. He really needed to stop doing that…he’d started to hear Blake’s honeyed tones in his sleep. 

Adam sighed before taking a long sip of his drink. The rock star doubted he'd be able to relax and enjoy this afternoon now. He was too worked up to let it go. 

"You like football?" Carson asked. Adam looked up from where he'd been staring at the ice melt into the mix of his drink. 

"Huh? Oh...yeah, sure I do." Adam winced mentally at the monotone quality of his answer. He felt it necessary to elaborate. "Er- my usual team is the Steelers."

“Ahh, like Christina huh? Well now we know who you two will be rooting for next year.” Carson hummed; eyeing him for a moment more before adding more fruit juice to the blender. “You okay man? You seem a little out of it.”

Adam nodded, “Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” He changed the subject. He’s known Carson for years, this shouldn’t be hard. He gets to chatting and they start to reminisce about the insanity that was their early careers in the 2000s, the fashion and drama, the wildly crazy parties, and of course the women. 

“You got around, Adam,” Carson grinned good-naturedly. Adam only shook his head and laughed, a little embarrassed. “Well, you didn’t do so bad yourself, man.” 

He swallows the words that threaten to spill out of his mouth every time a phrase like this is thrown at him- about how the women he was seen with were only on the ‘public record’ because he’d wanted it that way. He counted it as one of the tricks of the trade that he’d been able to hide all of his other, more diverse partners. Funny that they’d never caught on. The lovers who had most wrecked him had always been men. He started to wonder idly why that was.

Adam shook his head, suddenly realizing how absurd it was to be thinking about this at a party in a room full of people. He nodded to Carson, and then made a round about the house, catching up with those he knew and ignoring those he didn’t. When he finished his drink he slipped out the front door discreetly. He doesn’t think Blake noticed, and as he’s walking to his car he can’t figure out if this is upsetting or not.   
…  
Adam’s fiddling with his phone on set the following week; typing furiously in the notes app. He’d been doing that a lot recently. Inspiration seemed to be following him around and striking his brain with lightning bolts of words. 

Intuition and a lot of experience told him that it was likely these were all scraps of one song that would coalesce later. For now though, they were separated into a half dozen note pages, all of which were glaring up at him from the screen, begging to be finished. 

He was cursing his stupid brain when Blake peeked around the back of his coaches chair. “What are you doing?”

Adam jumps a mile. “Fuck!” He whips around, glaring at Blake. The country singer is chuckling at Adam’s overreaction, and the rock star clicks his mobile shut, sliding it into his pocket quickly. 

“Nothing, you jerk. Sending emails.” He smiles despite himself, because even though his last attempt at hanging with Blake was a bust, he’s pleased to see him. 

“You sure you’re not texting some supermodel?”

Adam scoffs mentally. Yeah, right. He replies with a question of his own, eager to change the topic. “Are you always gonna lurk around my chair? Is that going to be a thing?”

Blake leans in, his eyes twinkling. “Nah. Just when you’re being sneaky, like now.”

Adam laughs. “I’m not, dude, you’re crazy.”

Blake rests on the side of Adam’s chair, half sitting down. Adam tries not to be distracted by the proximity. 

“So, what are you doing this weekend?”

Adam shrugs. “Same old, probably. Seeing my little bro, taking him to a game. Maybe hitting the beach.” He doesn’t mention that he’d actually planned on banging out these songs that were rattling around in his head. They were driving him crazy, and he was looking forward to shutting himself away and tackling them. 

Blake’s expression is puzzled. “That’s it? No wild parties, or club hopping?”

Adam stares back at Blake. “No…?”

“Damn.” Blake shakes his head. “And here I was, thinkin’ I was talking to a rockstar.”

Adam can’t tell if he’s actually disappointed or if Blake is having fun with him. The older man grins then, so maybe it’s the latter. “Well, listen. If you don’t feel like being boring, why don’t you come over again? I saw you had to leave early last time, so I figured you might want to join in on round two. Most everyone will be at mine again.”

Blake’s bemusement comes back in full force when Adam looks…panicked?   
“You don’t have to, of course,” Blake backtracks quickly. “I just thought…well anyway, the offer’s open.”

“Oh,” is all Adam says. “Sure, yeah… maybe I’ll come by.”

As he ambles back to his own chair, it occurs to Blake for the first time that maybe Adam did not HAVE to leave last time. Maybe he’d WANTED to leave. What kind of rock star didn’t like parties?  
...

Make up and production people are buzzing around. Christina, Adam, Cee Lo and Blake are all settled into their chairs so that they’re out of the way. Filming was funny like that- Gary insisted that they remain in their chairs as they reset shots if it was anything shorter than 20 minutes. 

Blake thought it gave him some peace of mind, especially regarding he and Adam. When they weren’t glued to their chairs they were off stirring up trouble in some other part of the building. He was still trying to figure the dude out, if he was honest with himself. 

When it was just the two of them, Adam became this really great, funny guy. Throw some cameras in front of them, and Adam would morph into some nuanced version of the asshole Blake had believed Adam to be before they’d met. He was cocky and without a filter, but he was funny enough (and hot enough) to get away with it. But what really bothered Blake was that much of this vanished when they were off camera and with other people. 

Blake tried to get Adam to come with him to this dinner or that party, but the singer begged off more often than not. More and more, Blake was sensing that Adam liked to stick to the same old people and places. Apparently when he wasn’t working he was always at his house, at his family or high school friends places, or off somewhere in the city by himself. It was the strangest thing… but Blake was starting to think that, maybe, Adam Levine was an extremely lonely person. 

His phone pings. It’s from Adam.

‘stop staring at me, dickweed.’

Blake grins over at him, giving him the finger. Adam only rolls his eyes before looking back down at his phone. He’s clearly typing some more, almost frantically, but Blake receives no other texts.   
…

Blake invites Adam back to his trailer in between the longer breaks on set, and one particular week things get a little interesting. 

“Blake,” Adam asks, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Is that what I think it is?”

Blake is holding a plastic bag full of weed, a big grin on his face. “Well, yeah.”

Adam splutters. “But you’re a country bumpkin! You’re apple pie and southern-whatever and freakin’ God Bless America!”

Blake chuckles. ”Are you done?” He opens the bag, and to Adam’s astonishment, starts rolling. 

“Country people like weed just as much as everyone else, Adam. Only thing is, I didn’t realize you Californians have much better stuff for way cheaper. Y’all are spoiled.”

Adam gives him a strange look, realizing maybe he doesn’t know as much about Blake as he’d thought. “Well…you’re not wrong.”

“So, I figured you might be the type to like this stuff, and maybe you’d want to keep me company? It’s not as fun smoking alone.”

Adam shrugs. It was true, he was the type, and if he was getting some for free he wasn’t dumb enough to turn it down. “What the hell. Why not.”

The pair sprawl themselves over the couches in Blake’s trailer, well equipped to endure their three-hour filming break. Blake makes sure the door is locked, because even though nobody actually gives a crap, they don’t want to invite trouble. 

Adam breathes in the air around them that’s now saturated with the stuff. His limbs are heavy, but his chest feels light and his mind is wide open, so he feels great. He feels fucking wonderful. The younger man glances over to where Blake is, his freakishly long legs crossed at the ankle in front of him, he can’t help a giggle that slips out of him. 

“What?” Blake murmurs, his eyes sleepy and warm.

Adam covers his mouth with a hand. “You know what you just reminded me of? Those spiders… daddy long legs.” 

Blake snorts. 

“Did people ever call you that?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Only you would come up with that.” Blake coughs, but then throws his head back with a sigh. “Our jobs are weird.”

Adam nods, not realizing Blake can’t see the gesture. It was true: their lives had changed so much already thanks to the show. He and Blake had discussed a couple days ago how strange it was to have a 9 to 5 job on most days, which ended up being more like 7 in the morning to 10 at night days when things got busy. 

The show was a smash hit, and it still hadn’t stopped surprising them, seeing their faces on posters and billboards all over the city. Adam had admitted to Blake that the band was giving him a ton of shit for it, and he’d confessed in kind that he was also experiencing some weirdness from his other friends. Even his mom in Oklahoma had kept calling everything she saw a commercial for the show on TV. 

There was even talk about Blake Shelton being another country singer sell-out, which obviously pained Blake a little bit given his strained expression. Adam felt bad for the guy, but it wasn’t like their careers were actually hurting from it. 

Adam had been doing his best to help Blake adopt a little more of a thick skin. “This is show business, man.” He’d said over coffee one morning. “You’re in LA now, and you’ve got to have a tougher hide for this stuff. It’s ruthless here, I’m not kidding. Paparazzi, shady blogs, stalkers, the works. It’s the whole nine yards.” 

Blake for once seemed to take Adam seriously. If the front man was an expert on anything, Blake knew it was about how to survive in this cutthroat city. “You have to learn to fight back. And not the normal way… it has to be their way.” Adam looked at Blake with a thoughtful, calculating stare. “With that whole ‘aww shucks’, genuine thing-“ he gestured to Blake’s face- “You’ll be able to get away with a lot more shit and people will still love you.” 

Blake had laughed at that, but he’d taken Adam’s advice to heart. Blake had begun to let some parts of his personality show a little more, and his ‘fuck you’ attitude was earning him some new fans. 

Adam had perused Blake’s twitter timeline when he’d started tweeting him and was simultaneously proud and exasperated. It was ironic that he was giving Blake advice on how to be real enough to be likeable when he was probably the most two-faced person in the industry. 

Adam stops zoning out, pulled back to the present by a rap on the door. “Guys, we’re starting up in 20!”

“Wow,” Blake says, standing up and stretching before hiding the weed in a cabinet. “That went by fast.”

Adam admires Blake’s figure, staring at the man’s broad chest, which is covered by those damn plaid shirts all the time. Adam’s fingers twitch, and he wonders what it’d be like to unbutton just, like, maybe two or three of the fastenings covering up his friend’s skin. 

Adam sits up with a jolt, surprised at himself. This was a terrible thing to be thinking about. It was making him horny. What the fuck was he doing?  
...

“So why are we doing this again?” Blake muttered as they walked the couple of blocks from the café they’d been eating at to their shooting location. 

Adam shot Blake an exasperated look, but it was also fond. “We’re shooting the promo for the finale because we’re big greedy fuckers who love our studio paychecks.”

Blake laughs. “Alright, alright. I just hate this shit- it’s so stupid! People should just want to tune in cause there’s gonna be amazing vocalists!”

“Preaching to the choir buddy,” Adam replied, tugging his baseball cap farther down his face as they passed a few people. “I wish that was enough, but a lot of people watch because of us, even you’d admit that right?”

Blake nods. “Oh well. At least we don’t have to dress up or do anything totally dumb.”

Blake’s interrupted when someone calls out to them.

"Hey! You're that singer!" It's two guys, almost as tall as he and Blake. "Adam Levine, right?"

Adam's heart sinks, but he smiles politely, "Hey man." He doesn't stop walking though, hoping the acknowledgement is enough. It isn't.

One of them starts walking backwards in front of them, forcing Adam and Blake to slow down while his friend trails behind them. Adam often wondered whether people realized how caged in it could make someone feel when they did this.

"My girlfriend thinks you’re hot. Think I could get a picture?"

Adam suppresses a grimace. Ugh. Really?

"Sorry buddy, we are really late to a thing. Maybe next time." He keeps his head down, walking a little closer to Blake who’s had the sense to stay silent throughout the awkward exchange. 

The kid falls back, watching them as they pass.

"God. What a douche bag."

Adam only rolled his eyes when he hears the remark from behind him. He was used to worse, so much worse and so surprise grips him when he sees Blake turn around. "HEY!"

The country singer stalked back to the pair angrily and Adam felt a little panic. Uh-oh. "Blak-"

"Where the hell do you get off? Sayin' that shit... He was nothin' but polite to you!"

Adam takes in their wide eyes and latches onto the sleeve of Blake's jacket in desperation and pulls. "Come on Blake. Seriously, it doesn't matter, we're gonna be late."

Blake stands stock still for a moment more before turning grudgingly. Adam can hear him grousing under his breath. "...idiotic, spoiled little shit..."

Adam keeps them walking fast down the pavement, just grateful for the lack of witnesses to the incident. Thank God neither of them had pulled out their phones yet. 

When he glances up at Blake a few blocks later and finds him still scowling he tries to alleviate the tension. "It seriously was nothing, man. It happens all the freakin' time. Like, I can't even tell you."

Instead of calming the southerner it only seems to exasperate his mood. Adam is confused by the strained look on Blake's face. 

"Fuck, Adam. It shouldn't happen. It's messed up that people just peg you outright like that when they don't even know you,"

Blake’s shoulders hunch. "It's what I did, and I'll be damned if I let anyone else do it while I'm around. Ya don't deserve it."

Oh. "You...still feel guilty about that?"

Blake shrugs edgily. 

"Blake, it was nothing. You didn’t know me."

"S'not an excuse." Blake said quietly, staring ahead. 

Adam feels a twinge of regret, one that's been gnawing at him a lot lately. Every day he wonders if he should tell Blake, show him everything. Moments like this make him hesitate: Blake didn't even know all of it and he still showed serious guilt at having written off Adam as an jerk based on hearsay. Telling him the truth would probably make it way worse. 

“Well, we’re friends now right?” He asks, looking up.

Blake nods. “Of course!”

“Well then, that’s fine. It’s good enough for me, so just forget about it.”

Blake looks a little less dour when they finally reach their destination, and Adam says a mental thank you to whatever or whoever was looking out for them today. 

The actual promo is about what they expect- they take a few more candids and stock photos for media distribution, they get b-roll of the coaches ‘having fun’, laughing, and playing instruments. Adam thinks they’re just about done when their director calls them together. 

“Okay!” He says loudly, clapping his hands together. “We’re doing this segment where we’re going to have each of you talk briefly about your latest number one hit- what inspired it, your writing process, whatever.”

Adam feels a little discomfort- he hates talking about his songs because they were always the leftovers. The ones he actually cared about he gave away. Adam looks over at his fellow coaches. Christina and Cee Lo seem fine with it, but Blake has a tiny, almost imperceptible frown on his face. Adam can understand why… Blake’s last hit had been Siren. 

Adam ponders once again the craziness that is his life. “Why are we doing this?” He blurts, almost wondering if he can spare Blake the awkwardness. 

“’It’ll remind the viewers that you guys are at the top of your game, music-wise. The whole point of the show is that the coaches are the real deal, after all. That’s how you recognize the talent in the contestants.” With that, the director turns away to start setting the stage. 

Christina goes first, and the guys sit back while she does her thing. They’re sitting in silence until Blake gets up, grumbling about grabbing a glass of water. 

Adam follows him, trotting over to the catering table. He barely gets out his ‘what’s up’ before Blake starts venting in a low, frustrated tone. “That damn Siren song. Every time I perform it, every single stop on the road, I find myself wondering who wrote it.”

Adam’s heart starts beating a little faster. “Why do you want to know so bad?” He asks tentatively. “It’s yours now, man.”

Blake shakes his head. “To be honest, I was upset at having to pick up that song in the first place. Usually I write all my own shit, but I think moving out here has really messed me up. Out in Oklahoma I could write music no problem, with the fields and the open, clean air…” His voice is wistful. “In LA I feel like there’s just a massive blockage or something.”

“It happens to everybody.” Adam says, keenly aware that he is lying through his teeth. It had never happened to him. Blake nods, and Adam has the sneaking feeling that it’s a brush off, that maybe Blake won’t take Adam’s statement of comfort seriously because he still didn’t respect Adam as an artist. 

Yeah, they were friends now, but had it changed Blake’s opinion of his art? 

Probably not. 

He examines Blake’s downtrodden expression, feeling depressed himself. 

He doesn’t have enough time to feel too bad though because Blake keeps talking, almost as if he needs to get it out of his system. “The second I’d read the lyrics I knew the song was special, but the label won’t tell me who sold it to ‘em. Apparently anonymity is in their contract, can ya believe that?” 

Adam says nothing as Blake marvels over it, but he feels a little warmth at Blake’s praise. Then he feels weird because, yeah, Blake didn’t actually know he was complimenting Adam. “Anyway, it’s been driving me crazy.”

Adam focuses on his poker face and doesn’t say another word until it’s his turn to fumble through the segment. He bullshits his way through the whole thing, quelling the genuine answers that come to mind in favor of spouting off the cliché stuff everyone expects of him. When it’s over and they’re all dismissed, Adam can’t leave fast enough. He feels slimier, sleazier than he has in a long time.


	3. Chapter 3

Adam feels like his nerves have been rubbed raw. The lying he’s been doing his whole life had never been a problem before. It had been okay because no one was being hurt by it. Now, it was giving him meltdowns because his dishonesty had the potential to hurt someone who’d become important to him. Adam had to face it- he was crushing hard on Blake. Lately, he’d been unable to see the country singer on set without his heart stuttering in his chest. 

Those eyes and that easygoing voice laced with warmth, the way Blake couldn’t help but touch Adam affectionately… he felt as though his heart was going to explode. He couldn’t take it. There was no way the Southerner wasn’t straight as a fucking pole. There was no chance for Adam to be any closer to him. 

He’d been alone for so long that Blake’s handsy, tactile version of friendship had become a necessity. He found himself yearning to be touched whenever Blake was near. After years of being on his own and being completely fine with it, this new desire for contact scared Adam. 

After fleeing the promo set the other day, Adam had wallowed in his basement wondering what to do with himself. Telling Blake everything wasn’t an option- at least not right now. He wanted to be sure they’d known each other long enough and that Blake trusted him enough, so when he did tell him he wouldn’t shut Adam out. He wouldn’t be able to stand it if that happened. 

Adam needed to distract himself. 

This is how Adam ends up in Silver Lake, lingering in a nightclub and feeling like a fish out of water. The street outside had been crowded with hipsters and young professionals, and the thumping bass of the music had bled out into the avenue where everyone was talking and lingering. Adam slipped into the club he picked on a whim, breezing past the bouncer easily.

When he’d walked in nostalgia had slapped him in the face. Flashing lights, the bitter tang of cigarette smoke, and the crowd of people dancing was familiar. So many memories had been made in places just like this one, and Adam finds himself marveling at how crazy he’d once been. He enjoys the feel of the loud pop song concussing through his chest as he throws back one, two, three shots, and then retreats to a booth in the back. 

He’s alone so he doesn’t bother with bottle service, but its not long before he’s approached. The guy is tall with broad shoulders, but he’s lean. He’s beautiful, Adam’s mind whispers as he sees a shock of blond hair and very blue eyes. Adam swallows thickly as he murmurs hello.

“So… mind me asking what you’re doing in a gay club?” The man says, sitting down next to Adam and leaning in close. It’s clear he recognizes Adam, but the singer doesn’t answer. Instead, the rock star steels himself, relying on his slight buzz for courage. He leans in and kisses the man roughly- if the guy is shocked he doesn’t show it. He responds eagerly and lets Adam handle him how he wants. He loses track of time for a few wonderful, sensual moments before pulling away. “Do you want to get out of here?” He says into the man’s ear.

He laughs, a deep sensual sound but not quite what Adam wants to hear in that moment. 

“Are you even curious about my name?”

Adam blinks, wondering if he should be ashamed of himself but the blue eyes blinking at him are still warm, still inviting, and so he knows he hasn’t messed this up. Adam lifts one eyebrow expectantly and the name is given. 

“I’m Brian.” The guy smiles. It looks sincere, but a small moronic part of Adam’s brain can’t help but notice the lack of dimples. He squashes the thought before it can fester.

Adam smiles predatorily when he nods and grips Brian’s wrist as he pulls him out the door. 

Adam whisks the man back to his place in the hills, and he feels a strange lack of pride or amusement or any emotion at all when his ‘date’ whistles at the interior of his home. He didn’t bring him here to impress him. He had other things on his mind. Suddenly Adam can’t contain himself. He crowds the man against the wall, and with a firm grip on his waist he connects their mouths in a rushed kiss. 

Later, when he’s had his fun, he makes sure that he’s charming and courteous and that Brian doesn’t feel used. Sure, he hadn’t done this in a long time, but it was like riding a bike. “I can call a car for you if you’d like.” He hums into Brian’s shoulder, who’s sitting on the edge of the bed as he pulls on his shoes. 

“That’d be great.” He says, and hesitates before adding, “I won’t say anything, by the way…”

Adam must look confused, because he elaborates. “About this…the whole gay thing. To anyone, just in case you were wondering.”

Adam’s gaze softens. Brian must think this is Adam’s first foray into the whole having sex with a dude thing- why did they always think they were the first one? 

The singer quelled his amusement and only smiled warmly. Brian beamed back at him, and this more than anything is why Adam gladly takes his number before he slips out the front door. He almost regrets that the whole time they’d been wrapped around each other he’d been thinking of Blake. Those suffocating feelings of longing have abated though, so he probably won’t lose sleep over it.   
…

“So, did you end up having a good weekend?” 

The question throws Adam as he peers up from his phone. “Huh?”

Blake raises an eyebrow. “Well, you couldn’t come to the party I invited you to on Saturday? Said you were doing a family barbeque?”

To Adam’s horror he feels a blush creep up his neck all the way to the roots of his hair. 

“Uhh. Yeah.” He squeaks. “Yep, family…. and, um, food. And stuff.”

Blake gives him a funny look. “Right. Well…anyways…”

Blake trails off and walks away. Adam could almost kick himself for how stupidly transparent he’s being. When he looks into Blake’s eyes he’s reminded of how he’d been moaning under someone else not 48 hours prior, wishing it was the country singer.

Adam huffs out a breath. He needed to get his shit together. At least one positive thing had happened though- his writing had picked up on Sunday as he’d soaked up sun in the crisp water of his pool. He’d balanced himself on the swimming pool’s edge and had finally managed to wrap up the song lyrics on his phone. Despite the stupidity of it, his tryst with Brian had inspired something in him, and he’d happily emailed the finished product to himself before doing laps. Reliving his little accomplishment lifted his mood, and the singer smiled quietly to himself. 

It was wiped almost immediately from his face when he glanced up and saw Blake flirting with one of the interviewers. He was standing with Carson, who seemed to be balancing out the conversation between the blonde and the country singer. He couldn’t deny she was gorgeous. Adam’s heart hurt in his chest, and suddenly he pulled out his phone before he could think better of it. 

‘Hey, don’t know if you are interested. Want to meet up tonight?’

Adam clicked send and felt as if his limbs had gone cold as he waited for Brian to reply. He was doing his best to not look up and see Blake doing his thing. He felt so awkward and stupid right now. His mobile pinged.

‘I’m surprised you texted me. I get off work late, but I’d be happy to.’

Adam felt a mixture of emotions as he looked down at the screen. Guilt for using Brian, relief that at least someone wanted him, and pain because his desire for Blake was turning him into this grade A douche bag that slept around again. God, it was like he’d turned back into his 22-year-old self. 

This was a mistake. He knew it. But as he glanced up at Blake again and watched him stand so close to the woman, he didn’t care. 

Adam decides right then and there to bounce back. He was being pathetic! Now he had a date tonight, there was no reason to act like a besotted fan girl. 

Adam takes a deep breath and walks over to join the others.

His heart rate picks up as he approaches them, sees the smile on Blake’s face as he looks at the blonde. He’s mustering his courage to speak up and join their conversation when suddenly there’s a pop and a crackling sound from the wiring around set. All four of them look around in confusion until all of them are plunged into darkness. 

“Whoa!” Adam hears Blake exclaim. There’s a swell of surprised murmuring from the direction of the audience, but it’s too dark to see anything.

“Damn.” Carson mutters to Adam’s right. “They probably overloaded the boards again- I told ‘em to lay off the extra lighting!”

“Is this seriously a black out?” Adam asks, feeling strange as he poses his question to the darkness. 

He hears a feminine sigh close by. 

“I should go check on our equipment.” 

Adam can only assume the sound of the heels walking away is the interviewer who’d been flirting with Blake. His eyes are adjusting a little bit to the lack of light, and he is now able to see a tall shadow to his left. 

“Come on,” Blake says. “Let’s head backstage to wait this out.”

They start walking carefully, and the three of them sit down in the darkness of the lounge area, using their phones as flashlights. 

They’ve been waiting for about ten minutes when Gary’s voice comes shouting out of a bullhorn somewhere to the side of them.

“Everyone! We’ve blown the circuits- it’s no good. We’ll need to have maintenance out here to repair the wiring.” The stage manager sounds pissed. “We’re clearing the schedule. Congratulations, you all have the day off.”

There’s lots of grumbling about timetables and filming schedules, but Adam just grabs his stuff from his trailer and follows the crowd out to the parking lot. The second he’s feeling brave a black out happens? Did the universe hate him that much? 

“Hey, Adam!” Blake calls as he trots to catch up to the smaller singer. “Wait up!”

Adam lingers uncertainly, letting others pass as he waits for Blake. 

“Do you wanna get outta here?” Blake asks, squinting in the brightness of the sunlight.

Adam stares up at him. “I thought we all had to?”

Blake laughs. “No. I mean, do you wanna go and hang out somewhere? To kill some time? We’ve got a whole day after all.”

Hope blooms in Adam’s chest. Blake wants to spend the day with him?

“Sure! That sounds good. What do you wanna do?”

Blake smiles, happy that he hasn’t gotten the brush off like so many times before this. He’d been half expecting Adam to turn him down even though there was no excuse to be made about being available. “Well, it’s a gorgeous day. Wanna go to the beach?”

Adam shrugs, the nonchalant gesture contrasting starkly with the excitement that’s bubbling up inside of him. “Fine by me.”  
…

Over the course of their little outing, Blake is pleasantly surprised. He didn’t know why, but for some reason Adam had finally started to loosen up a little more around him. It had really given him the opportunity to get to know Adam better. The younger man still kept part of himself hidden away most days, and he was never totally there on set, but there was getting to be more and more authenticity every time Blake and Adam hung out together on their own. 

The idea that Adam always kept to himself was one that had been nagging at him. He didn’t know why, but it made him feel obligated in a way, which was why he was still inviting Adam places every chance he got. There was nothing Blake wanted more than to be around for Adam and show him that it was okay to branch out a little bit. 

They’d decided on a beachside bar in Santa Monica that was sporting a Margarita Mondays special. They had lingering here getting refills since just before lunch time, which may have explained it, but Adam had been delving into their conversation more than Blake had heard out of his mouth in weeks. 

The Adam he was seeing today was funny and unique, his off beat humor surprising the country singer. He’s still laughing from a particularly raunchy joke that Adam’s told him with a wicked grin when he’s blindsided by the singer. 

Adam takes a sip of his drink before he changes the subject abruptly. “Hey Blake…I’ve been wondering. When we first met, you said you were disappointed in me-“

“Oh man, Adam come on. I said I was sorry about that…” Blake's heart sank. This was the last thing he wanted to talk about. 

“No, no I’m not mad or anything, its just been bothering me. Why were you disappointed in me specifically? Especially when there were, like, a ton of other pop stars to be pissed at, who frankly have worse songs than I do.” Adam chuckles, but he is watching Blake’s face for any sign of feelings, anything that might indicate he is annoyed. “Hell, even Christina puts out ‘pop fluff’ as you called it.”

Blake’s expression reminds Adam of a caged animal, searching frantically for an escape. 

“Well…” Blake mumbles. “If ya really have to know. I guess it’s because even with your music, you’d caught my eye. Or, ear, as it were. You just…you were so energetic and interesting whenever I’d watch interviews from you, I could see that you had so much more below the surface that you weren’t letting on about. It frustrated me when I’d listen to your music and it was nothing compared to what I felt you could do.”

Adam’s eyes widened. This was much more than he’d been expecting. “You… you were following my career?” 

Blake nods, and Adam almost can’t believe it. “I didn’t think you knew who I was. I mean, obviously you did, but I didn’t realize that you had actually listened to my stuff.”

“I do more than just casually listen. I’ve bought your music.” Blake smiles ruefully at Adam’s disbelieving expression. “Even now, being friends with you- I can see that you’re an intensely creative person. Why doesn’t all that ever show up in your albums? You could be so great.”

Adam stares at Blake’s curious expression and he knows that this is the moment. Adam could tell him the truth right now. A part of him is desperate for honesty. He can see himself confessing, telling Blake everything, all about his writing and his secrets… but when he draws breath to speak it catches in his throat. 

What if Blake got angry? What if he became embarrassed about buying one of Adams songs to record and didn’t want to be around him anymore? Just the thought has his heart beating quickly with dread. 

Adam shrugs silently, swallowing his hurt and swallowing his words. Blake drops the subject when he sees that Adam’s not going to answer. He hadn’t meant to hurt Adam’s feelings. 

He changes the topic of conversation after that, eager to get away from the uncomfortable subject. “Well, its only two o' clock now. We still have way more time on our hands today than usual. What’re you going to do with the rest of your day off?”

Adam appreciates the subject change, but isn’t able to recover that easily. He feels crushed. He can’t focus. 

Adam looks out over the pier, watching the tourists and the waves lapping against the sand a few meters away. It’s a picturesque scene, but suddenly it’s the last place he wants to be. “Actually, now that you mention it I have a few errands I’ve been meaning to run. I should probably do them now that I’ve got the time.” Adam waves at the waiter for the check as he tells the lie.

Blake looks a little bewildered at Adam’s hasty move for the bill. He thought they’d be hanging out together for longer than this. “Oh. Uh, okay.” 

“You want company?” Blake asks, and Adam shakes his head. It was a sign of how far gone he was that he’d thought he’d heard a little hopefulness in Blake’s question. It was stupid to even consider that Blake would want to do boring everyday things with Adam. 

“Nah, man, thanks. I should probably just get ‘em done quick.” Adam slaps a few bills onto the bi-fold without even glancing at the total. “Sorry to just run out on you like this.”

Blake smiles with an ease he does not feel. “It’s alright. Not exactly a bad spot to linger is it? I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Blake.” Adam says. He turns and walks calmly out of the restaurant and to his car. The tightness in his throat and the beating of his heart is making his fingers tingle. He was having trouble breathing. 

The second he shuts himself into the driver’s seat he bows his head against the steering wheel and takes long, gasping breaths. Blake was disappointed in him. Even as his friend, he thought he was wasting his potential. He was a waste. 

It feels like a blow to the head, and it’s all he can do to throw the car into gear. He starts driving fast when he realizes where he needs to go.

The studio isn’t too far from Santa Monica, but Adam books it anyway. He snags one of his baseball caps from the floor of the passenger side and tugs it on as he parks and walks the around to the front of the building. It’s a short stroll but people were everywhere on this side of town. It was best to keep his face covered. 

The security guard lets him in when he gives him a wave, and the singer pushes past the lobby and down into the basement where the studio suites are. He purposefully ignores all the accolades along the walls and doesn’t give any other artists a second glance as they slip in and out of soundproof rooms with coffees or notebooks in their hands. He opens the door to the first empty suite he sees and immediately boots up the computers. 

All the software the label uses is standardized, thank god, so Adam sets his recording parameters with no hassle. He’s done this a million times. The blood is pounding in his ears and he feels a smidge of relief when he walks into the music room and settles the bass against his hip. He knows what everything is supposed to sound like; he can hear it in his head clear as day. Now he just has to endure the arduous process of getting it out. 

Adam spends hours running back and forth between the music and recording rooms of the studio suite, playing fragments of the song on the instruments in the room and recording what he needs. It’s painstaking, repetitive work, especially without the help of technicians or sound engineers. He’s playing riffs over and over again, seeking perfection each time he listens to the playback. He plays the drums until he’s sweating and his heart is beating out of his chest, and by the time he gets to the lead guitar he’s shaking. His voice is wrecked and raw from the strain of his work when he finally gets to the vocals. 

He bites out the lyrics, the longing and lust burning in his blood like nothing else he’d ever rendered and by the time he’s finished he feels wrung out. James had once said that if he hadn’t seen Adam in the midst of one of these creative fits he would’ve never believed them. Adam didn’t take offense. He knew no one else worked this way. He knew he was a bit of a freak in that regard. 

The rock star trudges over to the recording booth one last time and listens to the playback over and over again. He feels some tension leave his muscles because at last it sounds like it did in his mind, and now here it was in the real world. The only thing wrong with it is him. His voice doesn’t match with the words, Adam thinks. He sounds whiny and stupid, invalidating the emotions. If someone else sang this, it could be a good one. A chart topper. It sounds raw and real and honestly perfect. Adam’s not good enough for it. With Adam’s voice, it sounded like petty pining. 

He downloads his version onto one USB drive, then scratches his vocal overlay from the track. He puts the instrumental version on a separate drive, seals it in an envelope, signs it, and then clears out of the studio. 

His last stop before returning to the parking lot was sliding the envelope under the locked door of James' office along with the scratchily written out lyrics. His agent should be happy about the little surprise tomorrow morning, at least. Adam smiles at the thought, imagining him almost tripping over the envelope with his morning coffee in hand all the way home.

He unlocks his door and takes a moment to look around his big empty house. It’s a nice place, but what was the point if he had no one to share it with?

Adam takes a shower, lingering long enough under the water for it to go cold. He lets himself shiver and shake under the spray for a while before he wraps a towel around himself and opens the door to the patio, snagging a pack of cigarettes from his desk on his way. Adam lights up and takes a heady drag, savoring the burn down his throat as the breeze ruffles his damp hair. He puffs quickly with shaky fingers, finishing the first rapidly before lighting another. Adam gazes out at the twinkling skyline of downtown in the distance. The city is thriving even more now that the sun has set. 

He rests his head against the banister, resisting the urge to hit against it repeatedly. Why won’t his brain shut up? He feels like there is a thread attached to his heart and that Blake is on the other end, tugging it mercilessly. Blake is somewhere in the city right now, walking around and living, oblivious to the way he’s ruined Adam’s life. He can’t stop thinking about it. Adam smashes his cigarette against the tile of the patio and stands on wobbly legs. He should probably eat something. When was the last time he ate something?

When he rifles through his kitchen there’s nothing but a fully stocked bar, dog food, and some garnishes. He eyes the jar of olives doubtfully, but its all there is. He lets himself slide to the floor of the kitchen, fishing out the seeded olives with one hand and petting his dogs with the other. He eats slowly, and when he’s done he lists over, lying on his side. 

He enjoys the shivers that pass through his skin when he hits the cold floor. It’s more visceral than anything he’s felt in hours. The physicality of it is grounding. He tries not to think about Blake. He stares absently up at the ceiling as Bones snuffles into his ear curiously. The lights from the pool are refracting out of the water and onto the ceiling and he admires the dancing images as they move back and forth, never remaining still for long. He drifts off. 

Adam jerks awake when the doorbell rings.

"Fuck!!"

He scrambles, trying to get up and almost falling over again. He’s sure he’s overslept and the car service is already here and he’s late to set, god damn it...

It takes him a moment to realize its still dark outside. He whips around, squinting blearily at the clock on the microwave. 10:40 PM. What the fuck? 

He glances down mumbling to himself. "Falling asleep in your kitchen in nothing but a towel... Nice. Definitely adult, responsible behavior. Way to go, Adam." 

The door bell rings again, this time accompanied by a soft knocking and Adam curses, dashing to his room to pull on some yoga pants. When he trots over and swings open the door, he's still too out of it to school his expression. 

"Brian!" He blurts, surprised. 

Brian looks down at Adam uncertainly, “Um. Did I wake you?"

"No, no," Adam says "I was uh...in the kitchen."

Brian is smiling then. "You forgot about our plans, didn't you?"

Adam winces. Shit. 

Brian laughs, not seeming the least bit upset. "It’s okay,"

"No its not, I'm sorry, I just had a really weird day and, I don’t know. But I should have called you."

Brian gestures vaguely at his car. “Should I go?”

“No! Come in!”

Brian finally stops lingering on the doorstep and uses those long legs of his to amble over to the living room couch. He flops down. "Honestly, its okay. I should have called to confirm first before just driving over, but..." He bites his lip, looking at Adam hungrily. "I missed you."

In the presence of this barefaced desire, Adam is weak. He’s been in his head all day, pining like a teenaged girl and now there’s a beautiful man in his house who wants him. Who actually wants him. Even though it’s not quite what he needs he gives in anyway. He’s only human.

Adam settles himself down into Brian’s lap and seals their mouths together. It’s not perfect, but it’s something. 

…

The next morning Brian has to be at work early, so Adam sleepily kisses him good-bye around sunrise before watching him slip out the bedroom door. When he hears the front door close he flops back into the sheets, feeling more lost than ever. What was he doing?

He doesn’t have time to spiral into another existential crisis because his phone starts blaring. Adam glares before swiping to accept the call. 

“Do you have any idea how early it is, James?” Adam huffed to his agent, turning over on his stomach to hug a pillow to his chest. 

“You know what? I do.” James shot back. “I know because I had to come into work today, and the second I got there three different producers were in my office complaining about you.”

“Me?” Adam blurted, distracted. “What did I do?”

"Adam..." His agent said exasperatedly over the phone. " You can’t just come waltzing in here and steal someone’s suite for an entire evening. You need to actually book the studio next time. There is a schedule..."

“Oh.” Adam winced. In the midst of his melt down, the little things like checking studio availability had escaped him. “Well no one bothered me or tried to kick me out!”

“You know they wouldn’t dare, Adam.” James snorted. “It’s still rude though and it inconveniences me. It makes you look bad.”

"I know I know, sorry, but come on James. I mean, I've only been doing this for like ten years or whatever-"

"Then you should know how this works! The label provides what you need, they give you space, instruments and software, but they have other artists too. You're not their only contract."

"Yeah, but I'm the only one that supplies like 90% of their platinum singles."

There was a sigh over the line.

"Okay. Adam? This is one of those times where I'm calling you out on your shit." James said firmly. "You're acting like a diva, which is so not like you it’s freaking me the fuck out. Now what's going on here?"

Adam ran a hand through his hair roughly. "I don't know! It's complicated- I can't think straight, I haven't been able to sleep or eat, I feel like I'm losing my mind and the words won't stop coming, they just fill up my mind until I'm choking on them until I can't even SEE-"

"Whoa, whoa," James broke into Adam's babbling, slightly amused. "Okay, slow down. Is this about a girl?" 

There was a beat of silence.

"Okay... A guy?" James asked in a slightly more sober tone.

"I've never felt like this before, James." Adam confessed, squeezing his phone more tightly, "There's been bad ones, really bad ones... But I'm not even dating him and I feel like I'm getting fucked over."

James whistled. "Wow."

Adam hummed in agreement. "I'm a fucking mess. So... Sorry. I guess. For not booking the studio. Who did I throw off the schedule?"

"Nu-uh!" James crowed. "You're not getting out of it that easy! Tell me about this. Have you actually talked to this guy? Or are you doing that sad pining thing you do?"

"I'm not talking to you about this."

"Yes. You are. You get stupid in love, Adam. You need an outsider's perspective, especially since, you know, you never fucking talk to anyone."

"I resent that! I called you didn't I?"

"No, Adam." James chuckled. "I called you, remember? Jesus, you really are messed up. You gonna tell me his name at least?"

The idea of saying Blake's name aloud made Adam's stomach roil. James would know exactly who Blake was. The show was popular enough now that all four of them had been launched to a new level of fame that was frankly a little terrifying. It was crazy, but the whole of Los Angeles knew Blake Shelton's name. It wasn’t safe to tell anyone. 

“No. I’m done talking about this, for real. I won’t ignore the schedule anymore okay?”

“…Okay.” James says after a pause, seeming to realize Adam is serious. He changes the subject. “Thanks for the little present this morning by the way. I just finished listening to it. It’s good Adam. Really good. Maybe your best one yet.”

“Thanks.” Adam says. He shakes his head though. “Not better than Siren, that’s for sure, but it’s something at least. Think it’s gonna sell?”

“Yeah, definitely. I already have a vocalist in mind for it.”

They start delving into shoptalk as Adam gets up and gets ready. He breathes a sigh of relief, happy to be focused on something he’s not terrible at. 

…

Blake had woken up extra early that morning. He was eager to get to set and see Adam. After yesterday, Blake hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. It was only later, hours after watching Adam walk away from him that he realized how badly he’d fucked up. Adam probably hadn’t had errands to run at all. He must’ve really hurt his feelings. 

Blake could be stupidly insensitive sometimes, and the country singer wanted to punch himself in the face. He’d spent all this time trying to draw Adam out of his shell only to undo all that progress in one conversation. This was especially inconvenient because… well…

Blake was beginning to think he had deep feelings for the artist. The more he got to know Adam, the more he was beginning to see how perfect the man was. Sure, they seemed like a mismatch on the surface, but when they were actually spending time together Blake felt more comfortable with him than anyone else. It had started to become problematic, since his idle thoughts about Adam had turned into non-stop, almost obsessive ones. 

Yesterday had been the kicker. The way Blake’s stomach had plummeted when Adam had fled the restaurant was a pretty sure sign. It had been a long lonely day after that, followed by a sleepless night. 

Blake had to remind himself to slow down when he walked onto the studio lot featuring newly repaired lights. He grabbed a coffee and tried to calm himself down before going to look for Adam. The rock star was an extremely hard worker, and he was usually the first one of the four to show up for shooting. 

Sure enough when Blake peeked into one of the lounge areas, Adam was sitting on a sofa with his ear buds in. 

Blake watched him, careful not to make any noise. If he was noticed, Blake had a feeling Adam would seize up or slip into one of those roles he liked to play. Adam was leaning back as he listened, his eyes closed and head lilting slightly to one side. He seemed to be in raptures over whatever he was listening to, and Blake desperately wished he could hear what music it was that had unwound his friend in this way. 

The younger man's body language screamed pleasure, and Blake felt an overwhelming wave of attraction crash over him; it was a sensation that was becoming a frequent experience in his daily life. Suddenly, Adam’s phone pinged with a message and it seemed to jolt the singer out of his trance.

Adam's eyes fluttered open and Blake felt a thrill down his spine as they unexpectedly made eye contact. The rock star jumped. "Oh my God!" He gasped, and his grip on his phone slipped. Blake watched in partial amusement and guilt as Adam fumbled for his phone, but it flopped out of his hand and onto the floor. 

Adam sighed. "You scared the shit out of me Blake! How long have you been standing there?" 

Just as he'd predicted, the openness that Adam had been exuding faded away. That small sliver of something about Adam was gone, and if he hadn't been watching he is doubtful he would have caught it.

"Not long." Blake winced as he lied. He glances down at the phone on the floor. "Here, let me-"

"No, it's okay!" Adam says, his voice inexplicably higher than it was five seconds ago.

But Blake was already stooping to grab the mobile. He righted himself and was about to hand it over when the notification caught his eye on the screen. 

'Brian: Last night was really hot. I can’t focus at work because I keep thinking about those photos of you.'

Blake’s jaw drops.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im really sorry yall, writers block is awful.

Blake stares at the screen of the phone. He reads the words twice over and then three more times for good measure. 

It's rude. It's an invasion of privacy, but Blake is so startled that he can't help the question that tumbles out of his mouth. "Brian? Who the fuck is Brian?” 

He also wants to ask what photos because Jesus Christ, his heart can’t take this. He imagines Adam posing, taking risky intimate pictures of himself and sending them to some man. He’s both turned on and pissed off.

When he looks up, Adam's blushing red but his features are defiant, his head held high. 

"He’s a guy I’m seeing.”

“A guy you’re seeing… as in a man that you are dating.” Blake repeats tonelessly. 

“Yeah.”

“What the hell, Adam?” Blake says. “Just… what the hell?”

“What?” Adam stands angrily, moving into Blake’s space. “You have a problem with it?”

"No!" Blake splutters. "No, I... I just didn't expect... I thought you were..."

He rubs his hand through his curls, roughing them up. An uncomfortable silence is stretching out between them, one that feels very much like how it used to be before they’d become friends. Adam’s blush is fading and his complexion is rapidly becoming pale, so Blake tries to wrangle his words.

“I thought you were straight.” Blake admits, and he really can’t stop himself from staring down at his friend in fascination. “Have you always been…? Do people know?” 

A rush of emotions is crashing over the country singer. There is shock to be sure, and a healthy dose of doubt and a little shame sprinkled in too because what. the. hell. 

He’d made it his mission to burrow underneath all the bullshit and get to know the real Adam and apparently he’d done a terrible job of it since he never would’ve guessed Adam was into guys. 

Adam softens a little in the face of Blake’s floundering.

"I'm not gay..." Adam says, plucking the phone from Blake's hand. "I'm kind of... Non-discriminate. Bisexual if you need a term, but I really don't so I've never really stuck to one." He studies Blake. "I don't tell people though. I'm not closeted, I just- it wouldn't be good if people knew."

Adam hesitates. “Listen… you won’t-?”

"It's okay, Adam." Blake promises. "I understand, really. I won’t say anything."

Blake hopes the ‘you can trust me’ is coming through loud and clear. He’s still reeling, but his first instinct is to put Adam at ease. Blake knows very well how much it sucks to have to hide your sexuality for your career… lord knows he’s been doing it long enough. 

And hey, that’s something. Blake tries to kill the red hot wave of envy that’s rolling over him with the thought; what were the odds of finding another person with the same secret as him? A world of possibilities had just opened up in front of them, and Adam didn’t even know it. 

Even though this revelation leaves butterflies fluttering in his stomach, Blake tries to stay cool.

“So, uh… how long have you and Brian been dating?”

Adam scrunches his nose up. ”Umm, no. We’re not. Dating, I mean. It’s super casual, I just met him recently actually.”

Blake frowns. “How recent?”

“Couple weeks maybe?”

A voice in the back of the country singer’s head tells him to just nod and smile in the face of this information. It tells him that he needs to shut the fuck up and be nice. 

Blake ignores it. 

“You’ve known this guy for a couple weeks and you’re sending him sexy photos of yourself?”

Adam shrugs. “So?”

“You of all people should know that’s a stupid risk to take.”

Adam’s head whips up, and the tentative, friendly vibe in the room turns on a dime. The small crinkles around Adam’s eyes from his soft smile of relief have vanished.

“What do you mean, me of all people?” Anger is crackling off of him like fire, and Blake pushes through the last of his good judgment. That didn’t come out right, and he ought to back track right now and apologize, but he can’t let this go. 

“Don’t go readin’ me wrong.” Blake says. “I mean that you’re the one who was tellin’ me how cut throat it is here, how everything is a risk. Are you seriously trusting some guy enough to not leak photos of you?”

“He’s not just some guy!”

“Really.” Blake scoffs. “What’s so special about him after a couple weeks? Probably ain’t his personality.”

“Nice. Is that your way of calling me a slut or something? You haven’t even met him and you’re judging him! You’ve known about this for five seconds and you’re already judging me! Here’s a newsflash cowboy- it’s none of your goddamn business!”

Adam tries to walk around Blake and head for the door, but the country singer latches onto his wrist. Surprise overtakes Adam’s features as he stares up at Blake.

“Well I think it is!” Dark threads of jealousy were burning through Blake. He didn’t like the sound of this at all, and so he felt a little justified in getting a bit handsy. 

“Why?” Adam asks, his tone suddenly uncertain. “Why do you think you have a right to butt in here?”

Blake stumbles over his words. “Well… you’re my friend and I want to look out for you, and let me tell ya, letting some man take risqué photos of you doing who knows what is a sure fire way for you to become front page gossip.”

Adam’s observing him carefully, searching, but then his shoulders slump. “Maybe. But it’s my life Blake, and I’ve gotten along just fine for years on my own before you showed up. I can look out for myself.”

“Well, now you don’t have to! You don’t have to do anything alone Adam, don’t you know that?”

There’s a little too much honesty in Blake’s words, that much he can see by the way panic sparks into Adam’s eyes. He wrenches his wrist out of Blake’s grip. “Whatever.”

“Well, great.” Blake shouts, throwing his hands up. “You know what, I don’t know why I’m worried. Why should I care that some guy might sell you out? Even if he does try to sell them, it’s not like it’s something the world hasn’t seen before anyway.”

Adam flinches at the words. Blake blinks rapidly, as if he can’t believe what’s just come out of his mouth. “Adam. I didn’t mean-“

“You did.” Adam says, smiling sadly. “But that’s okay. It’s the truth, right? That’s obviously what you think of me.”

His tongue feels like lead in his mouth, and try as he might he can’t find words when Adam pats him on the shoulder and heads out the door.   
…

Adam flees to his trailer and bolts himself inside. 

“Why are you so stupid?” He hisses to himself. 

He didn’t blame Brian in the least, but Christ, what he wouldn’t give in this moment to take back everything that had happened last night. 

Adam had been so glad for some company and so disoriented from the day’s rollercoaster of emotions that when they’d taken their make out session to the bedroom, he’d lost a lot of his good judgment.

“Baby,” Brian moaned against his lips after a good half hour of teasing. “Let me photograph you.”

Adam licked his lips, feeling hazy. “Huh?”

Brian brought one of Adam’s hands to his mouth, kissing his fingers lovingly. His expectant eyes never left Adam’s face though, so the vocalist pulled away a little more.

“Wait… what?”

Brian’s breath was warm against Adam’s neck, causing him to shiver. “Lately all I can think about is capturing you on camera, so I can have a little of you with me. Your schedule is so crazy I never know if I’ll see you. It kills me.”

Brian pushed gently on Adam’s shoulder, pressing him down into the bedding and showering him with kisses. “Please, will you let me?”

Adam blinked heavily, trying to think as love bites were left all over his chest. 

Adam knew that it was stupid to give that kind of power to Brian, but the man was so sweet and giving and everything that Adam could’ve asked for in a bedmate. 

If his begging was any sign, Brian really wanted this. It made him feel special. 

Adam couldn’t remember the last time he felt special. 

In the end, Adam gave in. He was using the poor guy as a cheap replacement for Blake. The least he could do was be a little accommodating. 

He’d squashed his insecurities and anxiety and quietly acquiesced. “O-Okay…”

Adam had lain still on the bed for Brian, staring up at him with big eyes and pliant limbs, trying to be every bit of the fantasy that his lover obviously wanted. 

Brian had arranged him how he’d pleased, roughing him up with filthy kisses and teasing fingers around Adam’s cock. He tried to cling to the sensations of pleasure when Brian pulled out his phone, doing his best to bury the anxiety that erupted in his chest. 

“Just like that,” He’d murmured in Adam’s ear as the singer gasped little quick breaths to bring in air that was suddenly hard to get. 

“You’re so beautiful, Adam. A work of art.”

Adam squeezed his eyes shut and threw his head back so he could hide how his eyes were watering with emotion. Why couldn’t he calm down?

“Will you touch yourself for me?”

Adam heard the sound of Brian’s phone taking photos as he reached down to his cock and stroked himself a few times. He heard Brian’s breath hitch when he reached farther down and pressed two fingers into himself. 

“Fuck.” His lover moaned, but Adam didn’t feel sexy or desirable. He felt dirty. He felt scared. 

A hand wrapped around Adam’s ankle and pulled, and the singer opened his eyes in time to see the taller man lick his lips.

“Turn over.” Brian rasped. 

Adam obeyed. He closed his eyes again after settling on his stomach, dreaming of a southern drawl and fingers calloused from guitar playing. 

“Hold yourself open for me.”

Adam arched and reached back, parting himself as he choked on oxygen. It was starting to frighten him, how easy it was to imagine Blake here with him. He could almost feel it, how right this would be if it were Blake here instead. 

“Now look back over your shoulder at me… that’s it…”

Adam swallowed around the lump in his throat. He bit his lip and stared into the camera. 

He deserved this. 

Brian threw aside his phone with a moan and crawled over Adam.

 

Relieved that it was over, Adam gave himself freely; praying that his hammering heart and trembling fingers wouldn’t draw Brian’s notice.

He wasn’t that lucky. 

“Are you okay?” Brian had whispered against his skin after he’d fucked Adam into the mattress. “You’re shaking like a leaf.”

“It’s just my meds acting up,” Adam had lied, “my ADHD and all that.”

He was fortunate that his bedmate was too tired to question him more. Once Brian was asleep beside him Adam finally felt as though he could breathe again and drifted into an uneasy and fitful sleep. 

Adam pulls out of his reverie and looks around, disoriented. 

How had he ended up on the floor?

The rock star was leaning against the bottom of the sofa with his legs hugged to his chest, feeling numb. 

Reliving the memory of last night left him with his heart in his throat and apparently stressed out enough to slide onto the floor. 

Adam rested his head against his cold, tingling arms, wishing more than anything that he hadn’t dropped his phone this morning. 

…

When they’re both called to set later, it’s for individual sessions with their contestants. They have different filming timetables, so Adam doesn’t see Blake for most of the day. 

He ventures out to craft services whenever he has time, hoping to see the singer when he grabs coffee. They hadn’t left things on a good note. He wanted to speak to Blake, at least for a little reassurance that they were okay.

He has no luck until around six in the evening. He’s walking from one studio to the other, and suddenly Blake’s there, walking across the room with one of his team members.

They’re deep in conversation, but when the girl looks up and gives Adam a wave, his heart jumps into his throat.

Blake looks up too, right at him.

He has his hand half raised in greeting when Blake looks determinedly back down at the girl and keeps walking. In that moment Adam wants to die. 

…

His next day off, Adam lets himself experience the break down that’s been shredding apart his sanity. 

He was lying on his side and couldn’t move. His phone was nestled in the sheets right next to him under the blankets and pillows, and he was so far gone that he didn’t feel the least bit of shame about Blake’s albums playing softly out of the phone over and over and over again. 

It was 3 o’ clock in the afternoon. He had yet to get up today. 

His exhaustion stemmed from a raw, aching sadness that he had never felt before. 

The rest of the week confirmed the fear Adam had been harboring. Blake wasn’t speaking to him. 

He couldn’t remember ever feeling like this, so empty and so needy, but it was real and it was killing him. Blake had become the person he talked to the most, and now that had been ripped away from him, just when he needed it most. 

He had nowhere else to turn. 

Adam lifted his heavy head from off his arm with great effort and reached for his phone. The smudge of tears on his bicep glistened as he unlocked it and dialed. 

“Hello?”

“…Brian.” Adam croaked quietly. “It’s Adam.”

“Hey!” Brian’s tone was warm, but laced with a touch of concern. “Are you okay? You sound sick or something.”

Adam just listened to his voice for a second, staring absently down at his legs under the covers. 

“…Adam? You there?”

“Yeah. No. I mean, no I’m not sick. I’m okay. Are you working today though? Can you come over?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah.” Brian said, caught off guard. “I’m running errands right now though, it might take me like an hour.”

“Okay.” Adam said. “Hurry if you can, just let yourself in when you get here.”

“Are you sure everything is alright?”

“Yes. I’ll see you soon.”

Adam turns the music back on once he’s rung off, trying to breath under the crushing weight that Blake’s voice seems to create in his chest. He lets it bear down on him and savors it in some sick way while he waits. 

When he hears the front door open, he pauses the album. Charlie and Bones go bounding for the door, acting as Adam’s ambassadors. 

“Adam?”

“In here,” He calls softly. It’s probably not loud enough to carry, but it’s all he can muster at the moment. He hears footsteps though, and he pulls the duvet from over his face to peek out at the bedroom door. He blinked blearily in the sunlight at Brian.

“You are sick.” Brian said, confusion in his tone as he took in the sight in front of him. 

Adam shook his head. “Just get over here.”

Brian crawled onto the bed and pulled off his shoes before joining Adam under the covers. He smiled softly. “Hi.”

Adam tried to return it. He couldn’t. “Hi.”

He stared into Brian’s blue eyes. They were warm and caring- everything that Adam wasn’t able to be. He reached for the zipper on Brian’s jeans. “Get these off.”

“You know we don’t have to have sex every time we see each other.” Brian said softly. “It’s okay to just talk. What’s the hurry?”

“I need you to fuck me right now, please, and just-“ He swallowed thickly. “Just really make me feel it.”

Brian reached out hesitantly, and Adam squeezed his eyes shut when he felt soft fingers against his cheek. “Have you… Adam have you been crying?”

“No,” Adam lied. “But I’ll start if you’re not inside me in two seconds.”

He spread his legs. 

…

 

Hours later Adam can’t sleep and Brian is cradling him to his chest. Because it’s two in morning it doesn’t feel as scary when he says quietly, “I told a friend of mine about us.”

Brian’s arms tighten around him. 

“It didn’t go well.”

“I’m so sorry, Adam.” Brian whispers into Adam’s hair, and self-loathing rises like bitter bile in the singer’s throat. “You’ll have other friends that are more accepting. Not everyone is good at hearing the truth… maybe they’ll come around.”

“Maybe.” Adam concedes in a small voice. He doesn’t bother trying to correct Brian, because he’s honestly still too confused to attempt to explain his fight with Blake.

Blake had sworn the whole gay thing was fine, but then he’d turned around and picked a fight over something as stupid as sexting? It didn’t seem right.

He couldn’t figure out what he’d done wrong. 

Adam’s throat suddenly felt thick and he pressed a hand against his eyes. He was so sick of feeling like a disappointment to Blake. And now he couldn’t even figure out how he’d disappointed him this time because he’d been shut out.

“What- what did I do wrong?” Adam chokes out.

“Nothing.” Brian says, his voice hard. It’s the first trace of anger Adam’s ever heard in the man’s voice. “You did nothing wrong. This isn’t your fault.”

‘Yes it is,’ Adam whispers. “It has to be. It always is.”

…

When he finally gets off work and has time to himself, Blake rushes home. He slams his front door shut and doesn’t give two craps that the panes rattle because he needs to get to his guitar right this second. 

He’s seeing Adam in his head, moving across bed sheets, groaning and gasping under some mysterious fucker, smiling his shy, seductive smile- the country singer squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, pressing the heels of his palms roughly against his face. 

It’s like there’s a sickness in his brain. It used to be that he couldn’t stop seeing Adam in his sleep. Now it was happening even when he was awake; all he had to do was blink and Adam was there, in his head. 

He’d started avoiding Adam on the set of the show because it was getting so bad. He felt guilty, but one look at him caused Blake’s feelings of jealousy to burst to the surface. It left him feeling winded, sick and throbbing with anger. 

He’d officially lost it. But… the words were there; suddenly falling into his head as if dropped from the heavens by whatever god was choosing to torture him as of late. 

Blake flopped down against his bed and snatched up his guitar. Immediately he started strumming chords as he curled over the instrument. Blake hummed, searching out the tune that was stringing through his brain on an endless loop. 

After a few fuck ups he began to nail it down by playing it over and over again, louder each time, and all he could feel was ruefulness because it sounded just like Adam: lilting and mysterious and teasing, but with a little bit of fire added in to spice things up. Blake had a feeling it would hook listeners just like Adam had hooked his heart. 

Now that he had his groundwork, Blake pulled his notebook off the nightstand and began to scribble down the words that flew in front of his eyes. After months of not being able to scratch out a single lyric, the words were breathing out of him like air. 

“…The empty longing on a long cold night  
I have been lonely  
I've leaned on no one when the times got tough  
When it comes to heartaches lord I've had enough  
Know what it's like to live without your love  
I have been lonely…”

Why did he have to feel this way to articulate his agony?

“What do you know,” Blake mumbled to himself as he stared down at the finished stanzas in awe. “I have a muse.”

The next day, Blake emails the lyrics to his rep at the label as well as a request for some studio time. 

Not five minutes after Blake clicks the ‘send’ button she calls him, and Blake answers the phone with a wry smile. 

“You wrote these?” Miranda blurts in lieu of a greeting. 

“Yep.”

“Blake. These are amazing.”

Blake wants to laugh, but also kinda wants to cry. If this kind of hurt was what it took to create good music, he almost wished he was still suffering from writer’s block. 

“Can you get me in this weekend? I’ve got the music nailed down too, and I’d like to get it recorded down as soon as possible.”

“Really?” Miranda asks, trying not to sound surprised. “It’s been a long time since you whipped up a single all on your lonesome, Shelton.”

“I know,” Blake agrees. “I guess some inspiration just hit me.”

“Well whatever it is you did, maybe you should keep doing it.” She sounds amused. 

“Don’t worry,” Blake says, feeling grim. He doesn’t exactly feel like laughing along with her. “I don’t think I’m going to have any trouble with that.”  
…

Blake goes to great lengths to avoid being in the same room as Adam, but it does nothing to ease his frustration. Instead, it seems to be stoking the embers of his long dead creativity.

He’s cranked out half a dozen more songs. Miranda’s ecstatic, but Blake can’t help but feel the price is too high. 

After a week, Blake’s jealousy has ebbed enough to let the longing back into his heart. Seeing Adam but not speaking to him has become unbearable. He misses Adam’s voice and his jokes and the sound of his laughter. 

During performances, they struggle to interact like they’d used to, and Blake can tell the show is suffering for it. He’s starting to feel like the bad guy, because Adam really isn’t looking so good. He surrenders, knowing full well it means the end of his absurd mental claim on the singer. 

Seven days after their fight, Blake kills his protective streak and all thoughts of murdering this Brian fellow fly out the window. He puts aside his personal feelings in order to be the friend that Adam deserves. 

When he approaches Adam on set, his heart breaks a little because the younger man doesn’t even bother looking up. Adam had obviously stopped expecting Blake to speak to him. Guilt wrapped itself a little more tightly around Blake’s throat. 

“I’m really sorry. I don’t know why I got so angry.” Blake says without preamble.

Adam looks up at him with a wary expression, but it’s the shuttered look in his eyes that tells Blake exactly how much damage he’s done by ignoring him. 

“Can you try to explain it to me?” Adam asks softly. “I’ve just spent a week thinking that you were never going to talk to me again and that it was my fault, so I’m gonna need a little more than that.”

“Fuck,” Blake groans. “I didn’t mean for you to feel like that.”

Adam shrugs edgily, obviously waiting. 

“I guess I’ll start by saying I had no right to say a word about the sexting thing,” Blake says, mustering all his will power. “It was fucked up for me to pass judgment on something that was obviously private, and I’m sorry.”

Adam blushes but says nothing. 

“I think I just got mad because, well… I was trying so hard to get to know you and then finding that out, it was like I didn’t know you at all.”

“Blake,” Adam says lowly. “I’m not out, though. No one knows. It’s not like I was lying to you. Why would that make you mad?”

Blake’s desire for the rock star tempts him sorely in that moment. He contemplates throwing caution to the wind and telling the truth, but he has a feeling that confessing his jealousy might send Adam running and screaming. That’s the last thing Blake wants in this world, so he improvises. 

“That’s the thing,” Blake muses. “You keep everyone at arm’s length. You never let anyone in, ever, and for a second there I’d actually thought that I was one of the few who was really your friend. I got so pissed off because I realized I wasn’t.”

“Blake,” Adam says, his expression breaking open with realization. “You are my friend. Probably my closest friend.“

“That’s so crazy though, if that’s true” Blake blurts. “Do you realize how hard I had to work to get you to let me in? How many times I pestered you and invited you out, only for you to turn me down again and again? If I’m your closest friend and we don’t hang out… do you realize how much you shut yourself away?”

Adam stares at Blake, floored by the concept of the singer going to all the effort he’d just described just to be friends with him. It was mind-boggling. 

“I don’t mean to.” He says softly. 

“Well, you do.” Blake sighs, but the tension seems to ease from his shoulders a little bit. “I’m just glad that I wasn’t fooling myself after all. I get that you’re intensely private but it wasn’t a good feeling, realizing that our friendship was one-sided.”

“It wasn’t.” Adam says immediately. “I mean, it isn’t. We’re friends.”

“Good.” Blake smiled. 

Hope welled in him when Adam returned it with a small smile of his own.   
…

Blake tries to be supportive even though it hurts. Ironically he misses Adam all the time now, so he ventures bravely over to his trailer. When he lets himself in the singer is curled up on the couch with his phone in front of his face.

“Hey.”

It takes a moment for Adam to reply. “…hey.”

He sounds distracted, but not annoyed. He doesn’t have Adam’s full attention, but he’s so relieved they’re on speaking terms again he doesn’t mind being second fiddle to a cell phone. Right now, he’ll take what he can get. 

“You textin’ Brian?”

“Huh?” Adam’s eyes finally pull away from where they’re trained on his phone. “Oh… uh, yeah.”

“Why don’t you bring him over to my place sometime soon? Maybe we can all hang out.”

The words almost kill Blake when he says them, but the look of happiness on Adam’s face makes it worth it. Adam sits upright and puts his phone to the side, giving the country singer his full attention. Blake tries to ignore how the gesture gives him a stupid amount of happiness. 

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’d like to meet the guy. Make sure he’s good enough for you.” Blake smiled. 

Adam threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, man. If only you knew. It’s the complete opposite, actually. I’m lucky he puts up with me.”

“Now I know that’s not true,” Blake insists, but Adam waves him off, not even stopping for a moment to consider the older man’s words. 

“Seriously though, Blake.” Adam confesses as he stands. “Thank you for being so cool about everything. I’m glad I have my best friend back.”

“Me too.” Blake says quietly. 

Adam’s expression is so tender, so open that it brings Blake up short. The air seems to shift around them, growing thick with tension now that they’re standing so close together. 

Not even thinking about it, Blake brings his hand up and brushes his thumb along Adam’s cheekbone. Adam’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t move a muscle. He doesn’t say a word. 

Blake bites his lip. He can smell Adam’s shampoo and what must be his cologne… it leaves him feeling breathless. Blake bends down ever so slightly, leaning in when he realizes exactly what he’s doing. 

“Um.” He stammers, whipping his hand back to his side in quick, clumsy gesture. 

“You had an eye lash.”

There’s an awkward pause. 

“I gotta go.”

Blake bolts for the door, his face on fire.   
…

That night, Adam holes up in his house with Brian.

He struggles to keep his cool and tries to use his lover to distract himself but it fails spectacularly. 

He can’t stop thinking about what Blake had done. The singer mentally replayed the scenario over and over, analyzing every permutation and angle and came to the conclusion that he was losing his mind.

He’d really thought for a moment that Blake was going to kiss him.

Adam’s thankful that he was too shocked in the moment to respond. He might’ve fucked up one of the best friendships he’d ever had in his whole life, all because he was too desperate to think clearly. Imagining what Blake’s reaction might’ve been leaves him dizzy with dread. 

He was lucky that Blake wasn’t homophobic. He didn’t need to push it by putting the moves on the Southerner. 

Adam can’t sit still at the dinner table, can’t bring himself to eat even a bite because he’s so keyed up, so Brian takes him to bed. When he presses kind, insistent kisses against Adam’s lips, the vocalist stills. He lets Brian pull his clothes from his body with a sigh, happy to let someone else do the work; happy to be the one feeling cherished for a while. 

When Brian pushes inside of him, the pleasure blooms like the first flowers of spring but something is missing just like every other time they’ve made love. It makes the sliding of their skin together not quite right, but he can’t think about it. He won’t.

Adam lets himself slip into the moment, taking hold of Brian’s shoulders and wrapping his legs around his torso. 

He feels so full, he’s clenching his muscles in pleasure and he squeezes his eyes shut. It feels so fucking good and all he can see are blue eyes and messy curls, and the most earnest, sincere smile-

“Ah! Agh, god, Blake!”

Everything goes still.

“What?” Adam says breathlessly, staring up into surprised eyes. “Why’d you stop?”

In the midst of his pleasure, it takes Adam a moment to realize what’s happened. When he does, the mortification is instant. 

“Shit.” He croaks. 

“Oh.” Brian says quietly. 

The man’s head bows, his face pressed against Adam’s neck. 

Adam feels as though ice has been dumped into his veins. 

God. He is such a fucking idiot. 

“Brian…” He chokes out. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was…”

“It kind of makes sense. I’d wondered.”

All of the heat is leeched from the bedroom as Brian pulls away slowly. He’s not looking at Adam and has already turned away when he shoots a question over his shoulder.

“You really love him don’t you?”

Adam only stares at him, unable to think of what he can say to make this okay. “Brian…”

Brian sighs. “It’s okay.” 

He starts pulling on his clothes quickly, stooping to grab his keys. Adam scrambles after him, throwing on a shirt of his own so he can follow him to the front door. “Wait, please don’t go. I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry!”

Brian shakes his head sadly, and Adam squeezes his eyes shut when the taller man leans down to press a kiss to his forehead. 

“It’s okay Adam, I promise. We’ve all been there. But I’m not who you need. This won’t help anyone. You’ll be okay.”

“But…” Adam wants to confess that he won’t be okay, that he’ll be the farthest thing from okay because Blake is straight and too good for him and so beyond his reach, but it’s too messed up to admit, too awful to say out loud. 

“You probably shouldn’t call me anymore.”

“Brian, PLEASE!” Adam cries. “Don’t go!”

Brian doesn’t look back as he gets into his car and drives away. 

Adam slides to the floor and completely loses it. He can still feel Brian’s heat on his skin and Blake’s voice in his head and it’s way too much to handle. He’s crying, but at least no one can see. He has privacy now because he is alone again, which is exactly what he deserves.


End file.
